After the End
by Lli
Summary: Because, let's be honest, an ending that wide open is nothing more than a thinly-veiled request for someone else to do what needs to be done. Therefore, this author has completely disregarded TLG's thoughts re: endings and done just that; despite it not being marketable to a YA audience or people with biology degrees. Post-TLG, A/H no longer just implied, now an undeniable fact.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: If I owned the series, TLG would have had a plot. And coming from me, that's saying something.

A fic along the lines of _Bivouac_ - because I never seem to take his endings lying down, do I? As said in the summary, this picks up directly after TLG ends and continues from there, blissfully unconcerned with this thing Colfer seems to consider an 'ending'. Hopefully, this ficlet will continue as a collection of related shorts, but my muse - what/whoever it may be - is a fickle creature of late.

More than the usual amount of hurrahs! go to ilex-ferox for whipping me back into syntactical, punctuational and stylistic shape, which I seem to have once more thrown out the window.

* * *

After the End

"We should get going," Foaly said, as the sun began to show on the horizon. "People will be getting up soon," he added as they arrived at the Manor's kitchen door.

"Perfect timing," agreed Butler, helping Artemis down from Foaly's back.

Holly paused in her narrative and bit her lip.

"Do you really need to go?" asked Artemis, trying to stand in a way that hid the fact that Butler was supporting most of his weight. "Butler and I have just tricked a Vietnamese sprite and, well ..." the teen's brow creased, "I want to hear what happens," he admitted sheepishly.

Foaly didn't need to look at it to know that Holly's face had a particularly wide-eyed and pitiful expression on it at the moment. "Curiosity killed the dwarf," he admonished Artemis. "But I'm sure Holly won't mind sticking around for a while longer. I mean, it's not every day Artemis Fowl comes back from the dead." In a rare show of tenderness, he squeezed the teen's shoulder gently. "_I'll tell them you heard about a rogue troll,_" he said out the side of his mouth to Holly.

"Is she not supposed to stay?" Artemis asked, clearly following the Gnommish.

"You still understand Gnommish?" Holly asked.

"Yes, whatever Gnommish is. I seem to speak several other languages as well." He paused then looked up at his companions, honest curiosity written on his face. "I'm quite brilliant, aren't I?"

Holly choked back a laugh and Butler sighed, smothering the instinct to crush Artemis to him in a bear hug.

"And as humble as ever, too," said Foaly. "It really is you in there, isn't it, Mud Boy?"

Artemis gave him a lopsided grin. "It does appear so."

The sun rose higher and sounds of life reached them from inside the Manor.

"Well, this has all been extremely touching," said Foaly, actually meaning it for once, "but I've got to hit the road. Lemme know if you need anything." This last remark he directed at Holly, who nodded.

Before leaving the way he had come, through the glowing door, Foaly paused. Once more, he laid his hand on Artemis' shoulder, just for a moment. And then he was gone.

"Oh my God!"

There came the sound of breaking china and Butler and Artemis turned - Artemis admittedly with some difficulty - to see Angeline Fowl on the kitchen steps, her morning tea cup having fallen from her hands and shattered on the flagstones.

"Oh my God, Artemis!" She gaped at her son, her hands trembling as she brought them to her face. "Artemis," she said again.

"Hello, Mother," he smiled. Only Butler caught the slight question mark dangling at the end of the word. Artemis didn't remember Angeline either.

"Oh God," she said again, and swept her new-born son into her arms. After a moment she held him at arms' length and stared at him. "Your eyes," she said at last.

"I ... " began Artemis, but found he had no idea what she meant.

"He's a clone," said Butler. Then realised this was not a good start, as Angeline looked up at him in horror. "Not the way we think of clones. The body's a clone; but it's him, it's his spirit, his soul. When he died ... the spell ... it let his spirit linger and he'd made a plan -" here Angeline made a choked-sounding sort of laugh, " – to have his body cloned in the hopes that his spirit would be able to have a home again."

"I really _am_ brilliant!" muttered Artemis under his breath.

"Oh _Artemis_," Angeline sobbed, hugging him to her once again, trying not to think of how close she had come to losing him a second time without even knowing it.

Then she was calling for his father, for the twins, for Juliet, taking Butler and Artemis inside, never once letting go of her son. Artemis' family came running and, suddenly, everyone was talking and hugging him and there were tears, he didn't know whose, and he felt his heart swell with love as these familiar strangers held him in their arms. He knew he loved them; he was willing to wait for the details.

At last when they pulled back, his father still with one hand on his shoulder, he realised someone was missing.

"Where's Holly?" he asked, her name rolling off his tongue without his realising. "Where did she go?"

"Holly?"

Artemis saw his father's bewilderment and his mother's anxiety and rapidly put two and two together.

His father's smile widened. "Don't tell me you met a girl while you were gone? Just like a Fowl!"

Artemis shook his head, catching his mother's eye. "No, no, I didn't meet a girl while I was ... gone. I – she – I'm sorry Father, I'm still a bit hazy, I've been unconscious, Butler tells me. I must have been dreaming."

His father looked disappointed for a moment, but Angeline changed the subject. And then there was breakfast and more tears and more talking until Artemis found he could hardly keep his eyes open. Being corporeal was more exhausting than it looked.

His mother noticed first and told him to get to bed, he must be exhausted. Artemis agreed with alacrity.

Butler helped him up the stairs, which seemed to Artemis to go on forever.

When they were out of earshot, Butler said, "You remembered her name."

"I beg your pardon?" Artemis looked up at his bodyguard, puzzled.

"Holly; you remembered her name."

"Holly," Artemis repeated, as though trying it out to see how it fit. "Yes, I did. I ... she left," he said as though this were all the explanation needed. The fact that she was no longer with him worried him, though he couldn't put his finger on why.

Butler smiled. "I'm sure she's around somewhere, waiting. Your father and your brothers, they don't know about her. About the fairies. No one does, not really. Just you, me, your Mother and Juliet."

"Oh," he said. "That's a pity."

"It's safer that way."

Artemis nodded. "Yes, I've heard enough of Holly's story to see why secrecy might be needed."

"It's your story too, Artemis."

"I know," he said. "Or, at least, I _will_ know." He put his hand on the doorknob, but paused, looking up, looking Butler in the eye. "I don't remember you, Butler, but I know that I care for you a – a great deal. I would like you to know that, in case..."

"I already know that, Artemis. You've nothing to worry about."

"Thank you, old friend." With a smile, Artemis went into his bedroom and left Butler in the hall. Artemis had no idea that Butler stood there for another minute at least, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall at his familiar last words. O_ld friend._

Artemis closed the door quietly, sighing as the cool, dark silence of the room drew him in. Though he was overjoyed at seeing his family again, even if he had only just learned their names, the emotional stimulus had been too much and he was exhausted. Not to mention his body was only just beginning to get the hang of itself.

As his eyes adjusted to the dark he realised someone was sitting on his bed. Someone small.

"Holly," he said.

"Butler told you my name," replied the figure as it leaned forward, turning on his bedside lamp and revealing itself. Holly smiled at him in the sudden light.

"No," he said. "You weren't there suddenly and I ... it worried me. Your name simply ... came out." He frowned at his unimpressive finish.

Holly's smile grew. "You're beginning to remember."

"Hopefully." He began to make his way across the still-shadowy room, keeping his eyes on her. As he approached the bed, he asked suddenly, "Are we lovers?"

"I – wha – lo – _no_," said Holly with unnecessary vigour.

"Oh," said Artemis, sounding at once confused and disappointed.

"What makes you think we're ... that we're ... uh... lovers?"

"You're sitting on my bed even though there are plenty of chairs." He reached the bed and sat next to her. "And when I see you I feel ... content. Satisfied. Whole, maybe. Happy, certainly." He looked down at her. "Are you sure we're not lovers? I feel sure that we ... that something happened, that -"

"I'm sure!" she blurted out. When he looked at her, however, she squirmed under his gaze.

"But ...?"

"But nothing." She squirmed a bit more. "But ... well ... maybe there was this one thing, _once_, and ... well, it was a long time ago. Look, I've only just got to the bit about the sprite in Ho Chi Minh City, one thing at a time here. I'll get to that other thing ... eventually."

"Alright," he said. He watched her avoid his eyes for a moment."You're very beautiful," he told her at last, slightly bemused, looking at her as though she were a particularly vexing puzzle. This did nothing to calm her.

"I – thanks, Artemis," she said quietly. It was disturbing to hear him speak what he felt; usually he kept his emotions under such tight control. _Usually_, he respected their unspoken code: they didn't mention _that time. _Or any other time, for that matter, that could be misconstrued so as to seem, well, _more_, than it was.

"We are friends though, aren't we?" He sounded worried.

She looked up and saw that his blue eyes were wide, as if to take in more of her at once. "Yes, Artemis, we're friends. Best friends. Bonded by trauma. I couldn't do -" but she stopped there. Not because that would be breaking the code but because, worse than that, he wouldn't get the joke. And then she began to cry.

Artemis' eyes got, if possible, even wider. Slowly, he reached his arm around her. "Please, don't. I didn't mean to upset you, I'm – I'm sorry." Even in this state of near innocence his dignity still stumbled over apologies.

And it only made her sob harder anyway. Biting his lip, he held her to him, not knowing what else to do. One of her hands fisted in the material of his hospital gown and he could feel her tears through the thin sim-cotton.

"I missed you," she said at length, her fingers uncurling from his clothes. "I missed you so much, Artemis. Frond, I was terrified it wouldn't work. But it did, and now you're here, and it's amazing, it's a miracle, only..."

"Only I'm not me. Not yet."

She nodded, looking ashamed, trying to wipe away her tears with the backs of her hands.

"What were you going to say to me, before? That you 'couldn't do' ... what? You seem a very capable person."

Holly hiccupped a half-laugh, half-sob. "I was going to say that I couldn't do without you. It – it was a joke. Sort of. I said that to you once when you nearly died and I saved you. Right before ... right before I kissed you."

"You kissed me?" he asked, his expression unreadable.

Holly made another unidentifiable noise in the back of her throat. "Yes," she said. "But it was under extreme circumstances! I had been temporarily transformed into a hormonal teenager, and no teenager other than you has ever made good decisions."

"But you did kiss me?" He was unwilling to be sidetracked.

"Yes."

"That must have been nice," he said, somewhat absently, as though his mind had suddenly drifted.

"It – it was, actually." She looked at her feet. "I'm ... well, not to blow my own horn or anything, but I'm pretty good at it, even though I don't get much practice."

"And modest too," he said.

She laughed and bumped her shoulder against his. Truth be told, she thought, it was nice to finally talk about it. It was a relief.

"Why don't you get much practice? Are all other fairies blind?" He was only being slightly sarcastic, his curiosity was genuine.

Holly chuckled. "You're awfully sweet for a zombie, Artemis. And no, they're not blind." She bumped her shoulder against his again. "I don't get much practice because I'm a bit ... prickly. Foaly says I push people away. I'm ... well, I'm not everybody's cup of tea. I'm hard to get close to and I'm not easy to like, sometimes."

"_I_ like you," said Artemis.

"Yeah, well, you're not everybody."

"Thank goodness," he replied, making her laugh again.

Shaking her head, she took his hand in hers, playing with his fingers. "Your hand's back to normal again. You'd switched these two fingers on your old body," she tapped his middle and index fingers with her own. "And I branded you with a protection rune too, just here," she ran her thumb along the web of skin between his thumb and his palm. Artemis licked his lips and swallowed, watching her watch their past play out on the now clean slate of his skin.

"This must be strange for you," he said at last, hoping his voice wouldn't startle her into putting his hand down.

She gave him a half-smile. "No stranger than it is for you, I imagine. But you'll get your memories back soon. You remembered my name, after all. Soon, now," she said, more to herself than to him.

"In the meantime," he spoke softly, letting his fingers curl around hers, "will you finish telling me the story?"

She looked at their intertwined fingers for a moment, before raising her face to his. "Of course I will. Now?"

He smiled at her, his fingers tightening on hers. "If you don't mind. Though, might I lie down first? Reanimation is really quite taxing I've discovered."

"What a surprise," said Holly, shifting so that he could get under the covers. "You're still in your hospital gown," she said, suddenly.

He eyed the flimsy cloth with disapproval, only just noticing it. "So it seems. What with all the excitement, I must have forgotten."

"Even you can't be perfectly turned out all the time," she teased, smoothing the eiderdown before settling down next to him.

"Alas," he said and shrugged in a 'what's a man to do?' sort of way.

"I won't tell, I promise."

"Very noble of you, to be sure." He let his head rest next to hers as she snaked her arm under his neck and around his shoulders.

"Well, us fairies, we're generous by nature. And at it least it's not of those gowns that open in the back."

Artemis shuddered delicately.

Smiling, Holly leaned down and kissed his hair, as she had often done, when he had lain in Argon's clinic, recovering from his Atlantis Complex. Not that he would remember even if he had his memories: she'd always waited until he'd fallen asleep.

"I know I can't remember anything in great," Artemis said after a moment, "but I do know some things. I feel things very clearly, very keenly, in this state; possibly because I have nothing else with which to occupy my mind; or possibly because I have no accumulated inhibitions. At any rate, I would like to say, in case I didn't before I died – I do hope I did – that I don't believe I could do without you either, Holly. I feel such immense gratitude when I see you, though I have no idea why. I – well, thank you. For whatever it is you did for me or to me. I think you may have saved my life. I hope I thanked you for it before I died."

"You did," Holly whispered. "You did, Artemis." She remembered his mismatched eyes staring into hers as the drug took her; and a tear ran down her cheek and soaked into the pillow, unnoticed by Artemis.

"Good," Artemis managed around a yawn. "At least I got that right before managing to kill myself off, like a complete dunce."

"Don't be too hard on yourself, you got more than that right, don't worry. But you're distracting me!" Holly collected herself, surreptitiously wiping her cheek. "I'm supposed to be telling you a story."

"Yes, sorry. My fault entirely," Artemis murmured sleepily. "Please, do go on; from what I recall, it was just getting exciting."

"That's because _I'm_ about to show up," Holly told him, smiling as he fought in vain to keep his eyes open.

"Oh good, I can't wait..." He gave up and let his eyes drift shut as she began to comb her fingers through his hair.

As he drifted off, she began to talk, softly, knowing she'd have to repeat it all tomorrow. She didn't mind.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: guess.

So, apparently this is going to be an on-going thing. Enjoy!

As always, thank you to ilex-ferox, marvelous beta.

* * *

Coming to Conclusions, or The Morning After

When Holly woke up, Artemis was gone. She raised her head from the pillow, hair sticking in all directions, and propped herself up on one arm. A blanket slipped from her shoulder and she smiled: Artemis must have covered her before he left. Swinging her legs off the bed, she dropped to the floor. The curtains had been pulled back and that uniquely golden sunlight of the late afternoon poured, thick and molten, into the room.

On his desk, just out of the light, his various laptops were open and notebooks, CDs and USB drives lay scattered among them, as though he had left in the middle of something. Crossing to them, Holly touched the largest laptop's track pad, causing it to _whirr_ back to life. On the screen, a slightly younger Artemis was frozen mid-sentence, his mismatched eyes unusually expressive. Controlling her knee-jerk spasm of sadness, Holly pressed play.

"-didn't realise the cost. I should have, of course. I am a genius, after all. However - as I have just been so painfully made aware - one can only truly measure the value of someone once one has lost her. I can only be grateful that she is more inclined to forgiveness than I am."

Holly paused the diary, feeling like an intruder. _He must have been watching them to regain his memories_, she thought, trying to distract herself from what she had heard. She wondered if he had been successful. She looked down at his younger face, at those familiar eyes staring past her, seeing another place, another time. _Another time_, she had told him.

Leaving the laptops, she moved to the window and looked down at the grounds. Some distance from the Manor the Fowls, Juliet, and Butler were having dinner on the lawn. A wooden table and cushioned chairs had been set up under a large, white linen umbrella.

As she watched them talking and laughing, Artemis looked so at ease that she almost believed he had regained his memories. She felt something tug at her, making her stomach somersault. Swallowing, she pressed one hand to the glass, watching the family through her fingers.

In this brave new world, with its strange new rules, everyone else was getting a second chance. Everyone else was getting a new beginning. Why the hell shouldn't she?

Her reflection in the window smiled at the irony. _In another time_ she had said to him, dearest of all to her. Opal had tried to destroy everything Holly loved most and, instead, she had granted her the power to attain it.

"Maybe I'll write a poem about it," she told Artemis' far-off figure. She laughed, turning back to the laptops. "You know what I'm talking about," she said to the Artemis on screen, "even if he doesn't remember yet." Still chuckling, she leaned over the oxblood chair, looking at that familiar face for a moment longer before shutting the computer.

As she went out the front door, she put on one of Angeline's berets; that was the only concession she was willing to make.

Artemis was the first one to spot her coming across the lawn; his eyebrows quirked, causing Butler to swivel in her direction one hand surreptitiously going for his gun.

Soon they were all looking at her, and she had to fight down the urge to run. So many humans all at once. She focused on Artemis and swallowed her rising fears.

"I'm awful with secrets," she said, bluntly. "It gets too lonely keeping them."

Artemis nodded. "I know."

"I don't want to do it anymore," she told him. "I want a fresh start like everyone else. This is a new world, after all; another time."

A muscle in his cheek jumped and his gaze sharpened. She smiled at him - so he had remembered. "Won't this be rather against the rules?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I don't know, to be honest, they're all relatively fluid at the moment. Maybe we could give them a nudge in the right direction?"

"I would like that," said Artemis.

Angeline coughed delicately, interrupting the cryptic exchange. "Would you care to join us, Holly?" she asked, gesturing to an empty seat.

"I'd love to," Holly smiled.


	3. Chapter 3

Related, yet distinct. Enjoy.

Beta-ing and crossword clue provided by the wonderful ilex-ferox.

And, before people start heckling me about heights and ears and sunlight: dwarfism exists, her hair is mentioned as longer, and Colfer himself couldn't make up his mind about the sunlight (see: Opal's speech to the undead warlock in TLG and Holly's lounging around on the bonnet/hood of their stolen car in TTP).

Also, quick historical note, doing a "Grand Tour" of Europe was a popular pass-time for (mainly, but not exclusively) British upper class dandies/artists/the like in the 18th and early-19th centuries. Two notable grand tourers are Percy Bysshe and Mary Shelley.

* * *

A Grand Tour

"Let's go away."

"Pardon me?" Holly looked up from her crossword. Artemis had slid onto the stool across from her while she'd been pondering the clue "Divine avian (7,4)".

"Let's go away," he repeated.

"Away where?"

He shrugged, gesturing vaguely with his hand. "Anywhere. Where would you like?"

"I... I'm not sure. Um, maybe that city you keep telling me about, the one you like so much."

"Tübingen? It _is_ very picturesque," he mused.

She eyed him, a little baffled. "Artemis, what's going on?"

"I'm asking you where you would like to go," he replied, clarifying nothing.

"I realise," she glared at him, "but why? Why do you suddenly need to travel?"

"Need? Oh, I don't need to. But I would like to. I'd like to... I thought we might... 'hang out'."

"Abroad."

"Yes, fewer interruptions." As if on cue, Juliet and the twins raced through the kitchen screaming incomprehensible war cries, barely missing Artemis' stool as they went. The door to the patio crashed shut behind them like an exclamation mark.

"Artemis," Holly put down her pencil and leaned her chin in her hand, "are you asking me on a date?"

"Mmmm," he said, turning to eye the stove, "possibly."

"We could just go for lunch."

"Dull," he said dismissively. "Besides, I had a... thought."

"Ah," said Holly, "and now we come to it."

"No, it's nothing heinous. I believe you might actually enjoy it. I know you've been a bit bored lately."

This was an understatement: there had been no Troll sightings, no goblin smuggling rings, and no attempts on Artemis' life in a month. Holly had nearly finished an entire book of crosswords.

"Do tell," she said, trying to hide her enthusiasm.

* * *

Butler woke up to a note on the kitchen island. It read:

_Dear Butler, _

_We've gone away for a few days. Possibly a week. Certainly no more than two. I'll ring you when we land. Give my love to Mother._

_A._

_PS. Don't worry, Holly brought several guns._

Butler held the bit of paper in his hand and sighed. Why couldn't Artemis ever do anything like a normal person? Just once?

In the back of his mind he heard Artemis' voice. "Dull!" it said.

* * *

"I don't know... maybe Milan? There's a flight in an hour." Holly pointed to the departures board.

"Or Paris," Artemis frowned up at the lists.

"I've already been to Paris."

"No, you've been to Disneyland Paris, _that_ is entirely different."

"Is it though?" Holly's tone was doubtful.

Artemis turned to her, clearly horrified. "We're going to Paris," he said.

"Will that work for 'the plan'?" Holly asked, clearly unconvinced by said plan.

Artemis smiled his vampire smile. "That's the beauty of this particular venture: it is completely open-ended."

Holly crossed her arms.

"Trust me," said Artemis.

This did not have the desired effect.

* * *

"Artemis?"

"Obviously. I'm the only one with this number."

Butler sighed long-sufferingly. "Artemis, you can't just disappear like that!"

"Or what, may I ask? You'll come out of retirement and shackle me to my desk?"

"Don't get smart with me, Artemis. Where are you? Are there clear exits?"

"On top of the Eiffel Tower." The younger man's voice grew petulant, "She made us walk the entire way up."

But Butler had no pity. "A little exercise is good for you. But the Eiffel Tower is not what I would consider a secure location. Very crowded, only one sure way down."

"Yes, I'm looking at it right now," said Artemis, as he peered over the rail of the viewing platform.

"You're trying to give me a heart attack, aren't you?"

"Don't joke about that." Butler's heart, in fact, worried Artemis quite a lot, and his voice grew immediately serious. "I'm trying to make retirement easier for you. You'd have felt it necessary to join us if I'd told you beforehand. You're retired. You're supposed to be relaxing, so relax. If I were still paying you wages I'd say it was an order. As it is, I recommend you follow my suggestion before I consider it necessary to drug your food. Believe me, you're not going anywhere, anytime, soon, Butler. I want you to live to meet my—"Artemis broke off abruptly and, as he couldn't think of something else to say, silence descended momentarily.

"Meet your what, exactly?" Butler didn't hide the amusement in his voice. "Your chi-"

"My nothing. Not important," Artemis interrupted him. "I must dash, Butler, I think Holly's getting into a fight with a local. He must have complimented her hair. So sorry. Love to Mother."

"Artemis! Arte—" Butler glared at the silent phone.

* * *

"You can't attack every Frenchman who compliments you, Holly, or you'll have no time for anything else."

Holly kicked the pavement sulkily. "Well, I can try."

Artemis looked down at her. Her red hair blazed in the September sun, curling delicately around her chin; it had caused two car accidents, an awkward bicycle/horse-drawn carriage collision, and four men to walk into telephone poles that afternoon. Hesitantly, he laid his hand on it. He could feel the ridges of her hidden ear beneath his palm. She looked up, her vengeful reverie broken. Slowly, she gave him a wry, lop-sided smile and leaned into his hand. "Well... maybe I could _try_ to ignore them," she said eventually. "As long as I get to punch the really crude ones. There are some things you just shouldn't say to people!"

"Fair," he said, brushing her hair back with his fingers.

"Lunch?" she asked.

He nodded, lowering his hand.

"Or maybe we can just eat more of those almond things, they were delicious."

"I don't know if _macarons_ really count as a balanced meal," Artemis pointed out.

As though it were the most natural thing in the world, Holly slipped her hand into his. "What do you mean? They have all kinds of flavours: hazelnut, raspberry, pistachio. Fruits and nuts, what's more balanced than that?"

"Why of course, what _was_ I thinking?" Artemis rolled his eyes. Holly laughed, the sun blazed, and Artemis narrowly avoided a telephone pole.

* * *

The international headlines were not helping Butler relax. In the past two weeks, the art collections of six different private collectors in four different countries had been burgled and, subsequently, six major canvasses thought lost to Nazi looting had miraculously appeared in art museums across Europe. To top it off, just last night, the Swiss National Bank had been broken into. An inherited maximum security vault had been emptied. Though the contents of it had, of course, not been revealed, they too were rumoured to be stolen artwork and jewels. Butler suspected they would soon be found in a nearby museum. He read each story with a rising sense of despair. He kept reminding himself that Artemis and Holly were in Paris; not Prague, not Vienna, not Naples, _Paris_. Somehow, he wasn't reassured. After all, why weren't they back yet? They would only have stayed away if they were having too much fun to come home; and when they, individually or collectively, were having too much fun it generally meant that something risky and most likely life-threatening was going on.

* * *

"You should probably call Butler," Holly told him as their train wound through the Swiss countryside. "He'll be worried. We've been gone longer than expected."

Artemis nodded. "I will when we get back to Paris."

Holly leaned her head against the window. "You're right, you know, I am enjoying this."

He smiled at the surrounding landscape, showing his incisors. "Of course I am."

"Oh shut up, Artemis, I was trying to be conciliatory."

He turned back to her. "I'm glad you're enjoying yourself," he said, his expression unusually grave.

Holly rolled her eyes. "I do have a question, though."

"Yes?"

"How did you know I'd say yes? To this whole scheme, I mean. Usually I play for the other side."

"Because your sense of justice outweighs your sense of civic responsibility. You're as bad as I am really, only you have better morals."

"Oh, am I?"

"Yes. Do you remember what I said to Jon Spiro before he went mad?"

"That you were a hunter?"

"Exactly. Though we operate in vastly different arenas, you and I are both made for the hunt. You simply do it in a more morally upright manner. I'm... well, I _used_ to be less picky. Perhaps I still am."

"Are you?" She looked genuinely curious.

Slowly, contemplatively, he nodded. "I... believe so. But now I can choose not to indulge that side of me and so I don't. I'm happier that way."

"I'm glad," said Holly quietly.

"I think you want adventure as badly as I do; like me, you want something that will keep the boredom at bay. I've seen you when you are inches from death. And I mean that both literally and figuratively. If you didn't love it, the thrill, the risk of it, you wouldn't look the way you do."

Holly cocked an eyebrow. "I look a certain way when I'm about to die?"

"Yes."

"How?"

But Artemis seemed suddenly uncomfortable with the conversation. He licked his lips and fidgeted with his cuffs.

"Artemis."

"You just look...you look... _more_," he gestured helplessly with his hands. "You look _more_ alive. You look _more_...you're simply... you're exquisite," he said at last.

The blood rose in her cheeks and she swallowed hard, but she didn't look away. "Sometimes," she said at length, "I forget how well you know me."

"Sometimes I do as well," he admitted. "But you always remind me."

Suddenly, for she was an elf and elves are emotional creatures, her eyes brimmed. "D'Arvit," she muttered, pressing her wrist to her eyes, trying to soak the tears up in her sleeve before they spilled. "Gods, Artemis, I just... I got so scared after that whole debacle with Turnbull and Leonora - I mean, that could have been _us_ - and then everything with Orion; honestly, you felt so guilty you gave yourself a psychosis! It's ridiculous! _and_ stupid because I'd've done it anyway, in the end, if you'd've just asked me, you idiot. Frond, I can't believe I went on three dates with Trouble. _Three_, d'Arvit, that's how scared I was. I tried _so_ _hard_ to have a normal life while you were sick. I thought I was free of you. But as soon as you were better and I had the chance... _Frond_." Her final word was directed at her tears which she had been unable to control and now ran down her cheeks.

"I didn't know," Artemis said quietly. "I didn't know that had frightened you so badly."

Holly nodded silently, vainly trying to wipe her cheeks. Artemis fished out his handkerchief so she could dry her eyes without ruining her shirt. But, looking down at the flimsy white cloth, he realised how inadequate it was. He crossed the space between them and sat next to her instead, pulling her close, burying his face in her hair. For her fears had been his too, though he'd buried them as deeply as he could; perhaps, if he had been raised differently, he would have cried as well.

Because, now that they were at a safe distance from it, they could see clearly the routes they'd been taking: how close they had come to wandering out of each other's lives; and how they would have convinced themselves it had been fate that led them apart and not their own mute fears. How they would have gone from being inseparable friends to mere acquaintances who called each other on bank holidays and birthdays, and tried not to think about the ache in their stomachs when they did. An ache which they wouldn't even have acknowledged: they'd have written it off as nostalgia for the good old days, possibly a yen for some high-class witty repartee, but certainly not a broken heart so shattered as to be beyond all hope of repair.

Abruptly, Holly pulled away from him and, without giving him a chance to prepare, she took his face in her hands and kissed him. His mind stuttered to a halt. He had never been kissed like that before. All he could feel was her hair and her skin and he was honestly undecided on whether or not breathing was actually worth it.

"I'm glad that I'm so crap at having a normal life," said Holly, when she finally pulled away.

Artemis opened and closed his mouth several times before managing a slightly bemused, "Me too."

She chuckled and laid her hand on his chest. "I've ruined your suit," she said.

In that moment he couldn't have cared less. "That's alright, I have more," he told her.

"Don't I know it," she smiled, curling her fingers around the collar. "Still, you like this one."

"Yes." But his tone was so distracted that, at last, she looked back up at him.

"Artemis, are you alright?"

"I'm... not sure," he admitted. "Could we perhaps... might we possibly... can we just keep... doing that?"

She threw her head back and laughed. He cringed. But then she was reaching across him, shutting the compartment door, and wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Alright," she said, her nose touching his.

He smiled faintly. "Practice makes perfect," he offered by way of excuse, as though they still needed one.

* * *

By the time they arrived in Tübingen, both were dry-eyed and calm again. If they stood closer to each other, or held the other's hand more tightly, it wasn't enough to be remarked upon.

Artemis had booked them into a hotel near the castle, with a room that looked down over the sluggish river as it ran between the brightly painted houses. Holly said he was right, the city was very picturesque.

"It's even pretty in February," said Artemis.

"Nothing's pretty in February, Artemis," Holly told him.

"Exactly my point, this city is a near miracle."

"I'll believe it when I see it. You'll have to bring me back here in February and prove it."

"I would like that," he said.

She smiled and came back to sit at the table with him. In front of him, Artemis had a list of names and addresses gathered from government records. Beyond the papers, the table was littered with jewellery and golden ornaments whose collective price tag would have run into the millions. For all their glitz, however, they were small, delicate, familiar things: they were family treasures that belonged with a family, not in a museum. "Would you like to wrap or address?" he asked her as she sat.

"Wrap; your writing is nicer than mine and you always get the tape stuck to itself." She paused, then added, "And yourself."

Accepting this fact without protest, Artemis helped her sort through the heirlooms.

* * *

October came to Ireland in much the same way it always did, with rain and cold wind and wet red leaves sticking to the windows.

Butler was watching one such leaf flap in the wind, barely hanging on to the glass, when they came home.

They came in through the kitchen door as though they had only just popped out for lunch in town.

"Butler!" said Holly as she kicked off her boots. She hugged him with her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek, before making a bee-line for the kettle.

Artemis smiled at him, sitting next to him at the island. "We brought you something," he said.

"A peace offering, I hope," the enormous man growled.

Artemis nodded, opening a briefcase he'd brought in with him and handing Butler a box. The label was in French, written in a curling, flowery script. Butler opened it gingerly.

When he saw the contents his lips twitched in his version of a grin. "I love _macarons_."

"We got extra hazelnut ones because they're the best," Holly told him as she rapped her fingernails against the counter, willing the kettle to boil faster.

"So true," said Butler.

"Forgiven?" asked Holly.

Butler heaved an exaggerated sigh. "I suppose. But next time I want twenty-four hours notice at the minimum, or it'll take a lot more than _macarons_ to appease me."

Artemis and Holly both nodded solemnly.

Satisfied, Butler rose and took out a plate, transferring the delicate confections onto it. Artemis got mugs from a cupboard and Holly brought the freshly-brewed tea over to the island.

As they ate, Butler said, "I've been reading the papers, you know."

Holly and Artemis briefly, guiltily, made eye contact before looking away.

"Anything interesting happen?" Holly asked innocently.

"I was more hoping you'd tell me," Butler replied. "After all, Artemis loves a good brag."

Artemis sniffed in protest while Holly laughed and Butler smiled, happy to have them home.


	4. Chapter 4

This has been sitting on the burner for a while because I was attempting to write this collection chronologically (of course I jumped ahead to the serious shipping straight away) but I've given up. Also, I've just been reading HolidayBoredom and am now coming to (sad, sad) terms with the utter futility of my own literary attempts. At least in return I get to be well entertained!

All beta-ing thanks to ilex-ferox!

The ending is a little 'meh', sorry guys.

* * *

The Birthday Party

Music was blaring, the rumbling bass making the ancient wooden staircase of the entrance hall creak in protest. It was Artemis's twenty-first birthday; or his eighteenth, depending on how you looked at it. His parents had spared no expense, turning the baroque ballroom at the back of the west wing into a dance club, complete with lights, lasers and all the fantastically rich children of all their fantastically rich friends.

Despite his parents' unspoken hopes, Artemis had so far spent most of it sitting on said staircase with Butler, drinking Redbreast. Neat.

"It's a good thing your parents left," Butler commented, still nursing his first glass. "Your mother would be terribly disappointed that you're not dancing."

Artemis, well into his fourth, shot his friend a withering look. "I don't dance."

"No need to tell me that, I remember trying to teach you to foxtrot." Butler, of course, was an excellent dancer, though perhaps not in quite the same style as the dancers who were currently sweating away in the ballroom. "Pity, though, Holly certainly seemed to be enjoying herself."

Artemis muttered something that sounded like "I'd like to see her dance her way through string theory", but Butler pretended not to hear.

At that precise moment Holly herself appeared, coming in through a set of vibrating French windows as though summoned. It was baffling, Artemis thought to himself as she crossed toward them, how someone who only toped four foot at fancy-dress parties could manage, via heels and an empire waistline, to have legs that seemed to go on and on. And on. He looked back down at his glass.

"Seriously, Artemis," said the elf, coming to a stop before them, her hands planted squarely on her hips, "even Minerva's dancing. For Frond's sake, I'm risking my life in these heels, the least you could do is dance with me."

"I don't dance," Artemis repeated himself, swallowing the last of his whiskey. He didn't see Butler and Holly mime his response to each other.

"And I don't wear dresses. However..." Holly gestured to her body eloquently.

Artemis didn't look: her body was quite eloquent enough without her showing it off and he was just drunk enough to end up saying something embarrassing.

Holly rolled her eyes and flopped down between the two men. "Well, if this is how you're going to be," she said, and kicked off her heels.

"Don't take them off yet, I'll dance with you," offered Butler.

Holly grinned up at him and punched his arm. "Yes!" she crowed. "All I want is a good tango or something, yeah? Don't get me wrong—fairies love to dance, we'll dance to anything—but the kids in there, they aren't so much dancing as ... well ... you know what I mean." Butler was very aware of what she meant.

"Juliet's not getting into any trouble, is she?"

"No-o, trouble is not the word I would use, no." Holly avoided his eyes as she slid her feet back into her shoes.

Butler sighed, but by then Holly was on her feet, hands outstretched. He twirled her around a few times before they settled into a swing beat that could be overlaid onto the bass line coming from the ballroom.

Artemis set down his glass and watched, his chin resting on one hand, elbow balancing on his knee. They were both excellent dancers. He smiled, enjoying the show, as their aerials became progressively more outrageous.

If he were to be honest with himself, Artemis would admit that this was all he wanted on his birthday: these two people. These two people and just a few minutes of peace for them to enjoy themselves, without having to run around saving the universe. He didn't even care if they fought the whole time, just so long as it was with each other and not trolls or goblins or megalomaniac pixies.

Laughing, they returned to him as the song ended. As they sat down again Butler coughed, trying to hide how out of breath he was. Holly _tsk_-ed at him, seeing straight through the pretense. "I keep telling you, you can't over-exert yourself! Your heart, Butler!"

"I'm Butler," he growled at her, swatting her head gently, "I'll dance the Lindy Hop if I want to."

Holly chuckled, her arms sliding through those of the two men on either side of her. She leaned her head on Butler's shoulder and wormed her fingers into Artemis' hand, squeezing his fingers gently. His lips twitched and he squeezed back. The three of them sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, enjoying each other's presence and ignoring the distant cries of the dancers.

Artemis ran his thumb along the back of Holly's hand and surreptitiously watched her legs rearrange themselves. The last time he'd seen this much of her skin had been during a trip to the beach, the one sunny day they'd had in August. She and Juliet had been the only ones brave enough to go swimming. For the first time that night, Artemis was glad his mother had insisted on a fancy-dress party for his birthday.

"Hey, Butler, would you mind if I borrowed Artemis for a while? I forgot his present upstairs," Holly's tone was innocent as she broke the silence. Too innocent.

Butler raised an eyebrow. "There's a table for gifts in the ballroom, why not just leave it there?"

"We-ell," Holly met Butler's eye and gave him the tiniest of wicked smiles, "how would I know if he liked it, if I just left it on the table?"

"Of course," said Butler, returning her smile, rolling his eyes as though at his own silliness. "How true."

Holly made a noise that, coming from anyone else, would have been labelled a giggle. She kissed Butler's cheek, slipped her arms out of the men's, and started up the stairs, knowing Artemis would follow.

Artemis, aware (and irked) that he was missing an integral part of the subtext, interjected, "You didn't need to buy me a present, Holly. Surely you know that."

From a few stairs above, she looked back at him over her shoulder. "Did I say I bought you something?" she asked, feigning confusion, and kept climbing.

Artemis mouthed '_What?_' as he stood to follow. "I'll only be a moment, Butler," he called behind him.

"I wouldn't count on that, if I were you," Butler muttered to himself as he made shooing motions with his hands. He began to pick up the evidence of their whiskey escapade but paused, looking up just before his charge disappeared from view. "Artemis?" he called.

"Yes?" A pale face turned back towards him from the gloom of the stairs.

"Happy Birthday, Artemis."

"Thank you, Butler." And, with that, he disappeared.

Butler shook his head, smiling, and took the glasses away to the kitchen.

Artemis caught up with Holly outside his bedroom.

"You left my gift in here?" he asked as they went in. "Weren't you worried that I would find it?"

She laughed at that, closing the door behind them. The curtains were open, and though there was no moon, the dim, golden glow of the fairy lights in the garden below lit the room just enough for them to see each other. "Not at all, I hid it where even you would never think to look."

"Oh?" he turned to face her. He felt suddenly self-conscious; the whiskey was beginning to fade and here he was all alone with her in her little dress and her endless legs and what Juliet would call "mood lighting", completely out of his depth. "And where would that be?"

She smiled and stepped towards him. "Right under your nose," she said, chuckling to herself at some joke he didn't get. There was the sound of fabric slipping and, before he had time to react, her dress fell to her feet. Artemis got the joke.

"Literally," he whispered, looking down at her.

She snickered, and put a hand over her mouth, but he could see the corners of her mouth twitch behind her fingers.

He looked at her a moment longer; she had dressed for the occasion, with lacy black underwear and thigh-high nylons. He looked back to her face and her still-twitching lips. She was so incredibly dear to him he could hardly bear it. The feeling rose in his chest like a wave and stopped his throat. Every other thought and fear and scheme was drowned in it, their sopping remains swept away by the undertow.

"Happy Birthday, Artemis," she said, and stepped out of the pool of fabric, graceful despite the high heels.

"This is... rather generous of you," he said, wishing he could find the right words. Wishing that words were at all adequate for the situation.

"Well, what do you get the man who has everything?" she asked.

He laughed and pulled her to him. Her arms went around his waist, as they had so many times before. His hands moved over her skin, more of it than he had ever seen, and he smiled into her hair. "Let me look at you," he whispered at last, and she laughed again, her head on his heart. They remembered the last time he'd said that, so young and battered and desperate for reassurance.

"And here I thought you'd just been worried about me," she accused, pushing away from him gently; letting him look. "All these years!"

"I _was_ worried about you," he said, his thumb running along her cheek. "But it was also a useful excuse. You could be wearing a sack, having just crawled through one of Mulch's tunnels, and I'd still want to look at you."

She smiled, catching his hand in her own. "Now that's love."

There was silence for a second; that was a word they had always avoided.

"Yes," Artemis said finally, "I believe it is." And then he reached for her and they didn't need to say anything else.


	5. Chapter 5

This is the obvious conclusion to Artemis' birthday present. I was going to post it separately but, rather than cut this all up into pieces, I'm posting it here. But please

BE ADVISED: ADULT CONTENT,

M-RATED, LEMON, XXX,

and however else you would like to say 'they have sex'.

It's not particularly graphic, but if you're not comfortable with it please click the back button now!

Thanks to ilex-ferox for the masterful beta-ing as per usual.

* * *

The After Party

Although he would never have admitted it, Artemis harboured several fantasies about losing his virginity. Like most people, he had always imagined it would be flawless, despite his situation presenting more difficulties than was usual. But he had gone against his nature for once and pushed aside all of the many doubts his practical mind raised. After all, he was only human, and the idea of his lover's body - the dream of it - was something he guarded fiercely; most fiercely of all from himself, lest he should apply logic to it and thus cause it to waver and dissolve.

This was not the way he had intended to do it. He was a romantic, if in nothing other than his sensibilities, and had always envisioned somewhere slightly more atmospheric than his childhood bedroom. But he wasn't about to complain.

Her body was impossibly close to his; as though at any moment she might sink through his skin and dissolve into his blood; as though at any moment that soft but incessant yearning they had felt ever since the time-tunnel, a quiet humming in the base of their skulls, would finally be sated.

His hands found her skin again, pressing her closer still. She smiled up at him, her teeth bright in the half-light. She reached up to undo his tie and bit her lip.

"Crap," she whispered, unable to undo the baffling knot. She gave the bit of silk a look that would have felled many a doughtier opponent, but it remained unmoved.

He tried not to laugh but couldn't help himself. His head fell forward into the crook of her neck as his shoulders shook. She fought back a smile.

"Stop it, Artemis, I'm trying to do this properly." She smacked him lightly and he straightened both his spine and his face.

"My apologies," he said, but the corners of his mouth betrayed him. "Would you like me to do it?"

"Yes, please."

He made quick work of it and, if he were honest, he enjoyed the way her eyes followed his fingers, heavy-lidded and hungry like a cat's. He had always been the hunter, never the hunted. He found he liked the reversal.

"This isn't going quite as I planned it," Holly admitted, taking hold of both ends of the tie. Absently, she let the fabric run through her fingers.

"I keep telling you that planning is much harder than it looks," sniffed Artemis. "Perhaps next time you will believe me."

"We're playing for slightly smaller stakes here, Artemis," Holly pointed out, still fiddling with the tie.

"That's entirely a matter of perception," he replied haughtily.

She looked up at him through her lashes, contemplating his face. His breath caught and he wondered why he was still talking. She heard the catch and smiled, using the tie as leverage to pull them closer together.

"Would you shut up, please, Artemis?" she asked as their noses brushed. "Just this once?"

"Yes," he said. "Though, I did always think you loved me more for my mind than for my body. Apparently I was wrong."

She rolled her eyes and kissed him.

His own eyes closed and he was once more at her mercy.

The bed was beneath them then and, sooner rather than later, his clothes were dispensed with - even the tie. Her hair tickled the hollow of his throat when she bent to kiss his chest. He watched his hands move along her skin: her arms, her back, her stomach, her breasts. Now that her body, which he had kept so fiercely protected from his mind, was there before him, tangible, indisputable, he had trouble believing it. Slowly, doubtfully, he lowered his mouth to her skin, his tongue tracing an areola. She made a noise he had never heard before and he knew this was real. He wished he could loop that sound and listen to it again and again: a moan that arched and broke like a sob at the end. It rose like a torrent against a cracked dam, rising until it broke through, flooding the dry riverbed with relief.

After that, it was easier. This was Holly, he realised. Holly, who would never leave him. Later, he was sure, she would make fun of him for clumsiness, for over-eagerness, but she would do it gently, and too softly for anyone else to hear. This was nothing more than another punch line in their never-ending string of private jokes. This would be something they referred back to, whether verbally or physically, in the years to come; something that made them both laugh and smile at each other in that irritatingly exclusive way they knew they had. This would be yet another thing that they alone shared, holding it close to their chests, so that the rest of the world could only ever look on and wonder.

He kissed her then, happily, ecstatically. He had never been so happy to kiss her. She smiled into his lips, then into his skin when he moved away, his mouth on her throat.

"I love you," he said into her collarbone, into the slick space between her breasts, into the planes of her stomach where they sloped down and inward. "I love you."

He kissed the smooth skin of her inner thigh, his thumbs hooked onto her hip bones, anchoring him in place. He kissed the angles where her legs met her body, and then the space between them, with its myriad of names; none of which meant anything to him in that moment. He kissed her and kissed her.

He could hear her, her voice low and breathless and incoherent, and it nearly drove him mad. The humming at the base of his skull grew louder, and he wanted nothing more than to let his mind fall into hers and let their atoms course through each other's veins. He bit her skin, his hands on her breasts, on her hips, buried in her hair, trying to hold as much of her as he could. Her fingers slid up his back, her nails leaving marks, as she drew him into her, so that together they could try, as best as they were able, to silence the longing.

She kissed him as he came and whose breath or tongue or mouth was whose neither was sure. He shuddered and gasped as his orgasm passed through him, clinging to her like a child.

It was over too quickly. It had hardly ended and already he missed it.

Holly nudged his cheek with the tip of her nose. "Artemis?"

He lifted his head to look at her. "Yes?"

"Happy birthday," she said, smiling.

"Thank you," he replied, slowly moving off her. His body grew cold as they parted and he shivered.

She caught his arm, going with him as he rolled onto his side, tucking herself against his chest, warming him again. He smiled, kissed her red hair, and pulled the eiderdown over them with his free hand, feeling manly for the first time in his life.

"I'm sorry it didn't quite go to plan," said Holly, her voice soft and sleepy. "I'll have to look into this whole tie issue for next time."

Behind her head, Artemis smirked. _Next time._

"I can hear you smirking," she told him. "Stop it."

"How on _earth _–"

"I just can. Part of Section 8 training."

"You're such a liar."

"Also part of Section 8 training."

He bent his head and kissed her neck and shoulders. She sighed, a lazy smile creeping onto her face. Wrapping his arms tighter around her, she shimmied backwards, trying to close all the gaps between them.

"Just for the record," she murmured, sleep finally overtaking her, "I love you too."

Artemis smirked.

* * *

Holly woke up to find Artemis watching her. The sun had been up for a while, she guessed, judging by the light coming through the windows. Sometime earlier, the bass beat had stopped and now the house lay silent.

"Hullo," she said, pushing hair out of her eyes.

"Good morning," he replied. His eyes were wide and followed her every move, as though she might suddenly disappear from his bed.

"I'm not going anywhere," she told him, her fingers brushing his cheek. Gently rolling him onto his back, she rested her chin and arms on his chest and looked down at him.

"I know that," he said, a little defensively. One hand came up hesitatingly to play with her hair. "It just seems that this could so easily be a figment of my imagination."

"I thought you didn't imagine things? You brought them into being."

"I'm an eighteen year old boy, Holly. Short of paying for it, there are some things even I have to imagine." A blush rose in his cheeks, but he didn't look away.

She pulled herself up, kissing his cheek. "And I feature heavily in those things, do I?"

"Well, not usually. I'm more of a Lili Frond person myself, but I'll make do somehow." His voice was nonchalant but his poker face cracked when he saw her expression. "I'm joking, Holly."

"You'd better be," she growled at him. But she was smiling.

As she curled up around him, her nose brushing his neck, something curdled in Artemis' stomach.

"Holly," he began, "we didn't use ... there wasn't any sort of ..."

She raised her head to look at him, one eyebrow cocked. "Really? This is what I get? All because of one measly tie? My reputation as a tactical mastermind ruined already?"

He frowned at her, not understanding.

"Do you really think I didn't think this plan through to its logical conclusion?" she asked again.

"You're on medication," he said, comprehension dawning.

She nodded. "So don't worry, there'll be no little Artemis III running around this place re-inventing the wheel anytime soon."

He sighed with relief. Though, now that he thought about it...

"And stop that train of thought right now, Artemis. It'll be years, so don't even think about it." Holly had seen his expression grow thoughtful and made an educated guess.

He turned to look at her. "But it's a possibility, then?"

"I – what?"

"In years, I mean. It's a possibility."

"I – well – I ... yes," she stuttered. "I suppose so."

"Just curious," he said, and kissed her confused face. "We should be getting up. It's nearly ten, I'm sure my parents will be back soon."

"Yeah, your parents, right." But now, of course, the idea was in _her_ head, and the more _she_ thought about it...

Artemis saw her expression grow thoughtful and he smiled. Their future had always been a truncated, stunted thing. A few months together while he recovered from Atlantis Complex; a few hours to have tea before she needed to be somewhere; a few seconds to say goodbye before his brothers burst in. They had never planned more than a few minutes in advance: there had always been something to interrupt them. But this wasn't just a few days in advance, this was years. Years and years. Something in him contracted, freezing up, as though unable to process this sort of joy. Unmanaged, it spilled over, pouring through him; he let it come, though he was such a fragile container for it.

"You know, Artemis," said Holly, her fingers tracing unintelligible words on his forearm, "none of the other guests will be up yet and I'm pretty sure your parents said they wouldn't be back until noon."

"Really?" Artemis frowned, trying to remember. But the night before was hazy with whiskey.

"Mmmm," she murmured as she kissed the skin below his ear. "And you know what they say..."

Artemis rolled his eyes. "Practice makes perfect?" he ventured.

"You really are a genius, aren't you?" Holly laughed, the corners of her eyes crinkling. The sun coming through the windows made her skin glow bronze, and he smiled to look at her. "And just think, Butler will be so happy that you got some exercise."

Artemis laughed at that, and it was nearly a giggle. When she leaned over and kissed his mouth, he smiled into her lips and let her have her way.

* * *

Butler was alone in the kitchen when Holly came downstairs.

"You're the first one up," he said when she appeared in the doorway. He rose, going to put some bread in the toaster for her. "Tea?"

"Yes, please. Thank you." She slid onto one of the high stools that circled the marble-topped island.

Butler put water on to boil, then slid onto a stool opposite her, looking at her until she met his eye. When at last she did, he raised his eyebrows at her, his question clear.

Though the blood rose in her cheeks, she smiled at him. Quickly, the smile spread out of control and she put a hand up to cover it, ducking her head. She bit her lip, grinning like a fool at her reflection in the counter-top.

"I take it things went well for all parties concerned, then?" Butler asked, standing to fetch the toast.

"Yes," she said quietly. Accepting her breakfast with a nod of thanks, she asked, "Did you think they wouldn't?"

"No," Butler replied slowly, collecting his thoughts, "but the... first time... doing... something, _anything_, is never the best time."

Holly chuckled, nodding. "Maybe not, but he's a _very_ quick study," she said, before biting into her toast.

"A-and that's all I need to know," Butler shook his head. "Moving on."

Holly duly changed the subject. "When are his parents getting back? I know he wanted to be up to meet them."

"An hour or so, I think. He's still asleep?"

"Well, he went _back_ to sleep," Holly smiled around her teacup.

"Right. I walked into that one, didn't I?"

Holly nodded.

Butler came and sat next to her with a mug of tea of his own. "I'm very glad," he said, after a moment spent contemplating the fruit bowl, "that you two ... that this ... that you're happy."

"Me too," said Holly quietly. Sated, she leaned on Butler's arm and let the morning sun warm her skin.


	6. Chapter 6

Something that's been sitting around for a while. A little more un-love for Artemis Senior. I'm operating on the premise that Holly and Artemis explained the whole situation to the family sometime after Holly's coming out of the closet in the second of these drabbles.

Beta-ed by the lovely ilex-ferox.

* * *

The Facts of the Matter

He found her in the basement, in a room he had never seen before, in a hallway he hadn't even known existed. She had left the outer door slightly ajar and his curiosity had been piqued. Down the dim corridor, with its burned out fluorescent lights, he had followed her into a small, dark, cell of a room.

She sat on a lopsided metal cot, one leg of which was embedded deep into the concrete floor. Nearby a chair lay on its back, as though kicked over in a fight. There were cobwebs in the corners and the sheets she sat on were grey with age and dust. Miraculously, the bare bulb that hung, humming quietly in the middle of the ceiling, still worked. The light it cast made everything harsher than it was, until the contrast her vibrant, vital body made in the midst of this static, grey cube was almost unbearable.

She sat perched on the edge of the mattress, her legs stretched out before her. He could see why she held his son so in thrall. The lines of her body were beautiful to look at, spell-binding even, in their lithe, unconscious grace.

He knocked softly on the door frame to announce himself, feeling like an intruder in something intensely private. She looked up, eyes wide.

"Oh," she said, clearly surprised to see him. "I – hello," she finished lamely, unsure of what he wanted.

"May I come in?" he asked, though it seemed a little absurd. This was his house after all. But this room, whatever it was, was not his and he knew it. This room was entirely alien to him; its history was one he didn't know; its history was one that didn't need or want him; its history was utterly foreign him, despite the house in which it took place.

"Of course. This is your house," said Holly, shifting so that he could sit next to her, if he wanted.

He sat. He felt it would have been rude not to. "What is this place?" he asked.

Holly's mouth twitched. "This is – was – my cell."

"Your cell. Your – oh, from when Arty first – he kept you in _here_?" Artemis Fowl I was caught between horror and pride.

Holly nodded. "Don't worry, I escaped." Her lips twitched again. "Well, I escaped the cell, at least."

"But not the house as I recall."

"No, not the house. Nor your son."

He watched the stark light play across the angles of her face, whole sections of which disappeared into shadow when she moved.

"May I ask you something?"

"Of course," her tone was only slightly deprecating.

"It's just ... you don't seem like my son's..." the man fumbled for words, "well ... type," he tried at last.

Holly cocked an eyebrow at him. "No? And why would you say that?"

"Well, you're very pretty, for one thing. And seem to be much more ... active. You're from a very different world. Not to mention an entirely different ... _milieu_, and Artemis, he's very, well ...particular," he finished lamely.

"Particular," repeated Holly. "Huh." Had he known her better he would have been worried by how even her voice was. "So, just to clarify then, you think I'm a low-class gold-digger who's after the money of your patrician son who isn't handsome enough to date pretty women?"

Artemis Senior winced. "No, I mean ... I do think my son is handsome, he's just very ... different."

"Yes, he is that," she agreed. She let the discussion hang.

"Well, are you after his money?" He couldn't help himself. Besides, she seemed to appreciate frank discussion.

Holly laughed mirthlessly. "I'm not after his money. The only reason we met at all was because he was after _my_ money. Besides, I'm ..." pain skittered across her face momentarily "I'm an heiress you know. A ... friend of mine died and he left me 38 bars of gold, as though that would make things better. I don't what that is in your human Euro, but it's quite a lot below ground. So, rest assured, I'm not after his money. As to my being a classless pleb – well, that's never bothered Artemis, why should it bother you?"

"I'm just trying to look out for my son's best interests," the man spoke softly, defending himself. "And I didn't say you were a – a 'pleb'. I'm sorry this sounds so accusatory but I'm just having trouble understanding ... the two of you."

"I know, it's really tough, isn't it? Accusations have _such_ an annoying tendency to sound accusatory. Goodness, I wonder why." She met his eyes and didn't look away. "And why do _you_ need to understand _us _anyway?"

"I would like to," he told her. "He's my son."

"Right." Her voice was as hard as the lines of the room, as unforgiving and as unchanged by the passage of time.

"You don't like me," he said, feeling the need to clarify the obvious.

"I think the feeling's pretty mutual. Only difference is my opinion's based on actual fact."

Artemis Senior snorted. "Go on, tell me how you really feel."

"That you're a hypocrite and snob." She took him at his word.

"I beg your pardon, young lady, but I am his _father_. It's my responsibility to look after my son," his voice grew hard, the only hint of a past spent terrifying mafia kingpins the world over.

"Then how come Butler and I have spent nearly half of Artemis' life doing your job for you? You don't get to pick and chose when to be a father. It's a full-time job." She let the "young lady" remark slide, having bigger fish to fry.

"Oh? You've been doing my job for me, have you? Of all the self-aggrandizing, ridiculous –"

"You left him a broken, heartless wretch. I know. I met him. He kept me in _here_, for Frond's sake! A living, breathing, sentient creature. In _here_." Holly sprang to her feet, gesturing to the bleak cube they sat in. "This room is what his heart looked like when I met him. _That's_ what you did for him as a _father_."

"And you? What did you do? Please, Miss Short, I'm dying to know." His dark eyes bit into her, reminding her of other eyes in another face.

"I fought back. Until me, Artemis either gave orders or was given orders. I was something entirely new and he rose to the challenge. In return, I rose to his." She shrugged.

"It's not that hard, you know, making someone feel human: all you have to do is care a little bit and they'll do the rest. Everybody wants to feel wanted, after all; they'll do whatever it takes if they see even the faintest glimmer of interest in your eye. Honestly, I don't think he'd ever even made someone laugh until he met me." She looked down at the man before her and knew she had gained the advantage. She saw the pain in his face, the guilt he kept so deeply buried beginning to rise to the surface, bubbling up like poison gas to choke him in the night as he slept, him and his fragile new life. She knew that if she were Artemis this would be the moment she went in for the kill; the moment she told him how Artemis had thanked her for fixing a once broken boy and thanked her for saving him. But she wasn't Artemis. Not quite.

Holly thrust her hands deep into her cardigan's pockets. Crossing the room, she leaned against the opposite wall and looked the Fowl patriarch in the eyes.

"Look, I didn't come down here to give you parenting advice. You're not a bad person, and Artemis loves you and I know you're trying. So I'm going to explain Artemis and me to you. At least, I'll do my best. I know he wants us to get along." Her tone of voice suggested this was, in her opinion, asking a bit much. "How does that sound?"

"I would like that," he said, knowing she had chosen to spare him.

She brushed her fringe out of her eyes and wrapped her arms around herself, as though steeling her small body for a coming storm.

"Once, a long time ago now, when we were in the time tunnel - you remember the tunnel?" He nodded. "Well, Artemis didn't tell you the whole story. In order to make the spell work we all had to ... sort of ... mind-meld would be the best way to describe it. It sounds dumb, but it felt," she swallowed, "it felt like... Look, do you ever get that feeling of longing, of nostalgia, for something you can't quite put your finger on? As if you're homesick, even though you're sitting in your own living room? It felt like we had found _that_ home. That we'd found the place that everyone spends their whole lives looking for. And that place was each other. We'll never be that close again, to each other or to anyone else.

"I mean, people talk about sex like it's the be-all and end-all of connections; as though we can't get any closer to each other than that. Well, they're wrong. We weren't just in each other, we _were_ each other. That soul of his that spent six months hovering over the roses, that was my soul too, once."

She wiped at her eyes, trying not to remember. "But it happened too soon. It kind of ... screwed us up. It throws your perception way off experiencing something like that. We didn't know how to deal with it, or with what it meant, so we went in circles, getting closer to each other, then pushing each other away. In the end, I went on several pretty horrific dates and Artemis gave himself a mental illness. And no matter what Artemis says, I got the short end of that stick. Do you know what has to happen for someone to get kicked out of a Crunchball match? Seriously!"

"It does sound ... violent," Artemis Senior ventured.

"It was." She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "But that's why we're a little crazy around each other. I know we can get ... over-protective, sometimes. We can't help it."

"It doesn't sound like there's a lot of free will involved. You're with my son because of some time-tunnel misadventure? Just because you'll never be able to have a similar experience with someone else doesn't mean -"

"No. Frond, I'm not doing a very good job of explaining. Look, I'm _neurotic_ about your son because of a time-tunnel. I'm _in love_ with your son," the words slipped out without her even noticing, "because, at the end of the day, even without time-travelling and mind-melding, he and I, we're the same. I mean, we're sort of ... so different that we're the same. I'm really not making sense, am I?"

The man shook his head mutely.

"Okay, here, look, where I come from people all have their own explanations for me. Everyone does. I'm the 'crazy girly captain', I've got anger management issues, I've got serious PMS problems, I'm a bull-dyke or - or _something_. They've all got _something_ to rationalize me with. And they don't even know me. I'm a novelty, a – a dancing bear, like they have in the streets of St. Petersburg. Dancing for pennies and making everyone laugh. But Artemis doesn't see me like that. With him, I'm just me. I'm a brilliant marksman, I'm the best pilot anyone's seen in years, I'm strong and I'm fast and, yes, I'm also not as smart, but that's the truth. That's what I am, and he's ... okay with that. He even seems to like it." She shrugged, "He knows how it feels to be a party trick, so he just lets me be. He was the first person to ever do that. He's the only person I need to do that."

"And him? My son never does something for nothing."

"He gets what he wants," she smiled, laughing at some private joke. "He gets me."

It might not have sounded like a fair trade to Artemis I, but the man watching this exchange from the security booth two floors above knew exactly what she meant. It wasn't a question of delicate limbs and a pretty face, it was how willing those limbs had always been to run, to catch, and to hold that mattered.


End file.
